"SUPRISE!"

The sudden cacophony of noise and bright light disoriented Natasatch. She instinctively tried to level her weapon forward, but of course, she wasn't armed. Shying her eyes and emitting a brief hiss, she dove for cover, making an earnest effort to hide her considerable frame behind her human companion. The noise died off in just a few moments, and eventually the Viper peeked around her human shield's frame to see a collection of XCOM personnel. They huddled around a decorated table, looking at her with faces varying from concern to scorn.

"Nat?"

Her impromptu barricade spoke, giving a roll of his shoulder. Natasatch realized that she had gripped her human companion's arm tightly, holding him slightly off balance. Meekly, she let off the pressure until he'd found his footing again, and then he continued. "Nat, don't worry, everything's okay."

"What happening?" Natasatch asked, in her broken English.

"Geez, Mal. Didn't you tell your Viper lady about her welcoming party?"

The human at her side, Malcolm, rubbed his neck. "Heh, guess I just wanted it, uh, to be a surprise." He gave Natasatch an apologetic look, his normally smiling face crossed with a hint of worry. The young man turned back to the assembled group. "And it worked!"

"Not like surprises," Nat murmured.

Malcolm winced, absentmindedly adjusting his goggles. "Sorry."

However, the Viper had relaxed considerably by then, her eyes no longer darting across every potential threat in the room and her natural balancing sway growing looser. Tilting his head, Malcolm gestured to the table, and Natasatch followed the olive-skinned man as he approached his other humans.

Natasatch pored over the interesting assortment on both the table and around the room. A few colorful lights were about the hangings on the ceiling, while the table appeared to have a bedcloth draped over it. On it rested an assortment of cheap plasticware, rations dressed up by stylish arrangement, and a flat, round cyan cylinder, with a few candles and the same symbol she'd seen around the ship on the top. Interesting. It was nothing like those ADVENT 'party' equivalents she'd occasionally been assigned to guard.

Malcolm made a sweeping gesture, drawing Nat's attention. With volume building incrementally, he announced, "So, I guess, welcome to XCOM, Natasatch!"

"Welcome!" "Glad to have you onboard!" "Hey there." "Ayy, lady!"

The gaggle of humans whom the former ADVENT soldier once considered her enemies greeted her with surprising enthusiasm. Many were smiling, a few even blew on some devices that would unfurl like her own tongue as they made noise. Natasatch spotted a few humans who continued to look at her as if she'd start strangling somebody any moment, but for the most part, these humans seemed sincere.

Her heart started pounding faster and her head felt lighter, but Natasatch couldn't put into words what she was feeling. She didn't experience her muscles tightening, nor the familiar lust for blood. It wasn't fear or anger, despite her heart speeding up as if it was. Instead, the sensation felt… pleasant? That's it, she felt content. But without any explicit orders being fulfilled, or objective achieved, the slow bloom of satisfaction almost felt alien.

The rousing welcoming quieted, and eyes fell on her once more. Unsure, she turned her head to Malcolm, desperate for a cue. He gave her a small smile, giving Natasatch another small rush of pleasantness for reasons she didn't understand, and prompted, "So, why don't you introduce yourself?"

The viper turned to the humans, her hands fidgeting as she struggled to find the right words. If she misspoke, they'd reject her, and throw her off the ship while airborne, and they wouldn't bother rescuing any other Vipers, and Mal would regret ever letting her try to speak for herself. With those phobias plaguing the nervous girl's mind, she even surprised herself as enough English vocabulary emerged from her hazy understanding.

"Hello all. Natasatch, am called," she began, gesturing to herself with a clawed finger. "Am Viper. But ally, now. Elders use Vipers as slaves, like use humans. No real ally. Mal here, first real ally, first fir-end. He told ally can help Natasatch. Remove chip."

She tilted her head downward, bringing the same digit to highlight the recently sealed surgical scar running along her spine. A brief spike of pain occurred as her finger ran across its surface, but Natasatch was used to ignoring far greater discomfort.

"Am free."

She winced at how badly she vocalized, but somehow, it seemed to placate the humans. For once, she was pleased to be surprised, as she even watched one of the scornful veteran's expression soften as she highlighted her biochip scar. She wasn't sure if she should add more, but then Malcolm spoke up.

"Great job, Nat. That's her nickname-" he added as an aside "-and we're all very glad to have Nat on board. I can personally assure you she's perfectly safe to be around and actually doesn't like hurting humans, and that I'll be with her at all times to make sure there's no funny business."

"Seems ta me like yer hoping for some 'funny business' with her, lad," one of the females in a ballcap spoke up, immediately eliciting a torrent of snickers.

Natasatch could sense the blood flooding Mal's face, tinting his cheeks with a reddish hue, and she worried that a fight would break out during her introduction. If these human warriors were anything like Mutons, there's a good chance. However, she risked making things worse if she violated some human cultural norm by forcibly muting the offender with her coils, like usual, but her current alternative strategy of waiting for Malcolm to do something simply left her looking confused as Mal tried to return his blood circulation to normal.

Another soldier complained. "Cut the cake! I haven't gotten to eat one in years!"

Malcolm coughed a bit to clear his throat, and suddenly he was back to his usual self, grinning and animated. "Not yet, not yet!"

He put a hand on Natasatch's shoulder, the spot where his skin meet her scales suddenly tingling. "First, let's get a picture of the girl of the hour!"

They handed her the cake, which was the round object from earlier, while Malcolm borrowed a camera from a colleague. He leveled it at the unsure Viper, holding the lit cake awkwardly, a party hat resting precariously on her head and one of those noise devices stuck in her mouth.

"Say cheese!"

Natasatch didn't know the expression meant, nor could she even deliver a convincing happy expression, but the look of confusion on her face as the camera flashed seemed just as endearing.